


MONSTERS

by luminstrider



Category: Creepypasta - Fandom
Genre: Eventual Relationships, Eventual Smut, F/M, Gen, General creepypasta stuff, Gore, Original Universe, Slow Burn, Unhealthy Relationships, Violence, cursing, i guess
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-23
Updated: 2017-03-24
Packaged: 2018-09-11 08:01:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 9,729
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8971099
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/luminstrider/pseuds/luminstrider
Summary: Hi there… I’m Alex, and I’m really fucking boring. No, seriously, outside of the whole “I wish I were dead” thing, nothing happens to me, and hasn’t happened to me for years. Sometimes, I think I make up my own problems just to fill the air. I live alone, although I used to live with my mom and sisters. They are okay-- no horror stories about abusive parents or passive aggressive siblings. My life is, as I said, boring. And today was to be a day like any other, meaning the same thing happened that happened every single day, and I was okay with that. That was, until...“I’m… Jeff, and if you could just hear me out, that would be MUCH fucking appreciated.”





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I had this idea churning away for a while, and after getting the stamp of approval from my friends, I figured I'd go ahead and post it. The universe is entirely original with no real inspiration from other fanon Creepypasta universes. Fair warning for any general creepypasta related triggers, such as violence, swearing, murder, and general badness. Thanks to Alme and Farah!

**| NO PLACE FOR A HERO |**

 

_“Hey, mom, haha… I don’t want to alarm you, but… I wish I were dead?”_

 

I laughed without humor, my nails scratching once again over the same raw patch of skin on the back of my neck, but despite the top notch quality of my acting skills, I was still only speaking to my reflection in the mirror. I sighed, dropping my hand and letting my forehead press against the cool glass. I had practiced the words a thousand times over, but I still could not find the courage to go out there and say them to her.

 

I looked down at my arms, seeing the angry red lines glaring back at me on the flesh. I pulled my sleeves down, suddenly uncomfortable, and stood up straight again. Maybe tomorrow. I stepped out of the bathroom, catching the scent of dusty heating vents kicking on again after months of hibernation.

 

Hi there… I’m Alex, and I’m really fucking boring. No, seriously, outside of the whole “I wish I were dead” thing, nothing happens to me, and hasn’t happened to me for years. Sometimes, I think I make up my own problems just to fill the air, but then again it might be my own mental illness talking. It’s hard to differentiate where the voices end and where I begin… And by voices, I don’t mean the “Kill your friends” type of voices, just the scorning backseat drivers that remind you just how little your decisions impact the world outside of you.

 

I’m a sophomore in college, which isn’t all that bad, truth be told. I used to be bullied at my old highschool, but at my age, those things just don’t happen anymore. The only thing that really grates on my peace of mind is work, and the amount of stress I make up for myself concerning it. I live alone, although I used to live with my mom and sisters. They are okay-- no horror stories about abusive parents or passive aggressive siblings.

 

My life is, as I said, boring. And today was to be a day like any other, meaning the same thing happened that happened every single day, sans school, considering it was three days before Christmas. Even so, I wasn’t free from work until Christmas Eve and the subsequent weekend after, including New Year’s Eve. I worked some menial waitressing job at a local diner known simply as Rusty’s. My boss, Rusty himself, was okay, and wasn’t afraid to pull some strings for me considering he went to school with my dad. I got away with a lot, including smoking out back and taking home food at the end of every day. Hey, it really beats microwave dinners and ramen noodles.

 

Which brings me back to why I was in the bathroom, other than to practice my hypothetical speech I would hypothetically deliver to my mother concerning my absence as of the past year. I had to go to work in about an hour and a half, and the drive up to Rusty’s was twenty-five minutes in itself. I brushed out my uniform and grabbed my purse, as well as my ceramic coffee cup, decorated with a smiling reindeer. I had gotten it from a coworker just last night at the annual Christmas party. Hot chocolate (or, at this point, lukewarm chocolate) swirled around inside as I locked my apartment door. I made my way down the stairs, the cold winter air grating as I fumbled to put my things in my purse. I passed by one of my neighbors, a lovely European woman by the name of Almesiva. I would have lost my keys in the holes between the stairs if she hadn’t have caught them.

 

“Oh!” I blinked, looking up and offering her a relieved and thankful smile. “Oh my god, thank you so much, that was super close!”

 

“Sure was!” Alme held the keys back out to me, and I took them eagerly. “You’re always late to work, it seems.”

 

“I’m not late, yet, but I may very well be, haha…” I waved her off with a cheery smile (or as cheery as I could manage this particular afternoon), before continuing on my way down the stairs towards the parking lot. My car was the only thing I was proud of. It was a baby blue Ford Mustang convertible with two seats and plenty of trunk space. I patted the hood affectionately as I passed by, though I had a much less pleasurable time opening the door with all of my junk in hand.

 

It was all worth it, however, once I got inside and turned the heat on. With the radio playing and the heat churning, it was like my own corner of Heaven. The only place I felt truly at ease. A necklace my best friend had given me after graduation hung around the rearview mirror, as well as an air freshener (it smelled like Black Ice).

 

I glanced up at my apartment building before putting her into reverse. So far, this day was almost exactly like any other day was-- boring and pleasantly so.

 

**| THREE AND A HALF HOURS LATER |**

 

He could taste blood in his mouth as he stumbled out of the bushes and into the dimly lit parking lot of some apartment building. His ankle hurt like a bitch and he had to spit out the blood accumulating in his mouth. That fucking bitch made him bite his tongue-- It’s a good thing he cut hers out. He needed to get out of here, and fast before someone saw him and called the cops or some shit.

 

He stumbled over to the apartment numbers, scanning over the sign to find one with a single person living in it. He ran his hand under his nose and pulled it back bloody. Of fucking course. He needed to claim Territory before another Monster found him and finished the job. He finally found one-- Apartment 267.

 

Taking the stairs as quickly as he could, paranoid and in pain, he made his way up. He wanted to look at his ankle to see how bad it was, but some part of him also didn’t want to know. If one of his enemies saw him like this… God, he’d be toast. He tried the lock on the apartment door, and of course, found it was locked. (What was he expecting?) That had never stopped him before, however, and he simply brandished one of his knives and carved his Mark into the door. The lock clicked open as the Hivemind did their job and he was home free. It wasn’t until he was inside and looking for a first aid kit that he’d realized his mistake.

 

“Fuck! Fuck, fuck, fuck!” He stabbed his knife into the kitchen counter and punched the wall, knuckles already raw from the scrap he’d just won. “God fucking damn it, I’m so stupid…” He glared accusingly at the half ajar door, and maybe it was just him, but he could have sworn he saw a pair of disappointed eyes glinting in the parking lot. He quite promptly slammed the door shut and locked it again.

 

He spent the next few hours licking his wounds and mulling over ways to get out of this. The Accords stated that a monster could take temporary territory in the residence of a human if and only if they killed all humans living there, but they never said anything about taking territory before the human was dead. His mentor just told him that it was bad, and that he should never attempt it.

 

He cursed to himself as he poured rubbing alcohol over the cut on his ankle. It wasn’t as bad as he thought it was; That knife the girl used on him looked a lot bigger in a dark house. He wondered what he was going to do about this… Kill the human, maybe? Yeah, that sounded like a good idea… Kill the human, and it fulfills the Accords, problem solved!

 

Speak of the devil. He heard a door unlock down the hall and a grin crossed his face. He reached for his knife and hit the bathroom light, squatting down in the bathtub and waiting for them to approach. He heard humming and some rummaging about, before footsteps began to grow closer and closer to the bathroom door. A tremble of excitement rippled through him and his grin grew. He stood up to his full height, watching as the human girl stumbled into the bathroom and hit the lights.

 

She didn’t notice him, moving to her sink to wash her face, and only saw him in her reflection when she looked up.

 

“Evening!” he said, before bringing his arm back to stab her between the shoulder blades. A scream ripped through her and she grabbed the nearest thing that could qualify as a weapon, which just so happened to be a can of Febreze. The knife came down, but, for some reason, he couldn’t bring himself to stab her. Not in a “human weakness” sort of way, but more of a “similar poles of a magnet avoid each other” sort of way. He physically could not force the blade near her. For a moment, he thought that she must be part of the Hivemind, but then he realized that the brand on his knife was glowing. The Accords, apparently, had not yet been fulfilled.

 

“What the-- What the fuck?!” The woman screamed, and sprayed him in the eyes with her Febreze. He shouted in pain and dropped the knife, and she took this opportunity to run. He growled, and attempted to grab the knife again, but stumbled blind and fell backwards in the tub. It wasn’t until he heard her speaking to the police on the phone that he snapped into action, grunting and bolting for the hall.

 

“Wait, wait, wait, you don’t have to-- don’t have to do that!” He practically slapped the phone out of her hand, and in his haste, stomped on it. She gaped at it hopelessly, before looking accusingly back at him.

 

“What the fuck-- Who the fuck even are you?! What are you doing in my house?!” She snapped, backing away in a panic and pawing around for another weapon. He held his hands up, gritting his teeth as he was forced to lower his head to some human, but he didn’t have another choice apparently.

 

_“I’m… Jeff, and if you could just hear me out, that would be MUCH fucking appreciated.”_


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Read and find out.

**| NO REST FOR THE WICKED |**

 

_ “I’m… Jeff, and if you could just hear me out, that would be MUCH fucking appreciated.” _

 

I lowered the television remote I was currently brandishing, breathing hard as I stared at this… this  _ thing  _ in my living room. I could only imagine it was a person-- Maybe a burn victim? He was tall and lanky, malnourished almost with incredibly long greasy mats of black hair and ashy white skin. His eyes were wide and ringed in black shadows, as if he had smudged liner around them. Matted, pink scars cut in a Glasglow smile marred his face. He wore a white hoodie, smudged with dirt and blood, the sleeves pulled up to reveal his bloodied arms and hands, currently raised in surrender. 

 

My name is Alex, and my day was going completely fucking fine up until this point. My life had been incredibly boring, pleasantly so, up until this point. I had been blissfully ignorant, up until this point.

 

Jeff glanced down at the television remote and one of his thick, untamed eyebrows quirked. His voice was coarse, like a smoker, when he spoke:

 

“I’m not going to ask what you intended on accomplishing with that.” He reached in his pockets and pulled out knives-- three more knives-- and I watched as he observed the glowing brand on each one before dropping them to the ground. He seemed to grow more and more frustrated with each blade-- God, where was he keeping these things?

 

“What… What is it?” I glanced only briefly at the growing piles of knives at his feet before looking back at him. He flicked a small butterfly knife away before sighing dejectedly. “What?”

 

“I came here to kill you. But I can’t, because they won’t let me.” He stomped once on the ground, and a sort of void opened up beneath the knives, and swallowed them whole. He stomped again, and the void closed back up to reveal my carpet, as if it had never been there in the first place. I was still reeling in shock from his intentions. He walked past me, and I stumbled a bit and gaped after him. He went into my kitchen as if it were his own and began rummaging around.

 

“What-- I-- Who is they?” I glanced down at what was left of my phone, eyebrows knitting together. “And you owe me a new phone? And what are you doing in my kitchen?”

 

“Boy, you ask a lot of questions!” Jeff said from the kitchen, and I could just hear the contempt dripping off of his tongue. “Where do you keep the booze in this house? There’s a lot to explain, and I’m not going to even ATTEMPT it sober.”

 

I was too busy with getting out to point him in the direction of my alcohol stash. The door, however, would not budge, despite my distinctly remembering that I left it unlocked when I came in. The mark he left on my door (both sides, apparently) glowed when I turned the knob.

 

“What the hell is this?!” I cried, whipping around to glare at him. He stood right behind me, holding a bottle of Schnapps and working his jaw back and forth.

 

“This is me telling you to sit down and shut up.” He growled. “There’s a lot to explain, and I have a few phone-calls to make, and I would really fucking appreciate it if you’d cooperate, human.”

 

Despite my better judgement, I was sincerely out of options with this madman watching me so closely, and so I sat down on the loveseat and watched as he made himself comfortable on my couch. My sewing kit was open on the coffee table, so he helped himself to it, and began to thread a needle with dental floss (which he produced from his pocket, of course).

 

“Do you intend on knitting a sweater?” I grumbled. He glanced over at me, and snorted derisively before pulling up his pant leg. A nasty gash that had begun to ooze blood was only barely covered by toilet paper there. He peeled it all away and began the nasty work of sewing it back up.

 

“Now,” he muttered as he worked, “as I said, there is a lot to explain. No interruptions, you can ask all the questions you want after.”

 

“Why should I listen to you?” I rose an eyebrow.

 

“Because we are both trapped in here and the only thing that can get us out is me, so you’d better damn well listen to me, girlie.” He bit down on the dental floss to break the thread and tossed the needle back into the sewing kit. “Do you got a bandage?”

 

“...” I glared at him for a moment before standing up. “Yeah.” I went begrudgingly down the hall to my bedroom, where under my bed I produced a personal first aid kit my mother had given me before I moved into this apartment. She, a nurse, was infamously fussy over my health and wellbeing. Inside, there were many sterile dressings as well as a plethora of other fun medical equipment. I took one of the dressings before sliding the kit back under my bed and making my way into the living room.

 

“Here, catch.” I tossed the rolled up dressing to Jeff, and he caught it easily, before beginning to wrap up the wound on his ankle. I watched him carefully as I took my seat on the loveseat once again, staying as far away from him as permissible. He secured it with a safety pin, something I can only imagine he plucked from my sewing kit, before he began to speak.

 

“Okay, so, I’m not human.” He said bluntly as he popped the cork off of the bottle of Schnapps. He took an experimental sniff of the contents before shrugging and taking a swig. “Ugh, rip off that band-aid right away.” He tossed the cork aside. “I’m what my people call a Monster. Monsters are immortal beings that can only be killed by other Monsters. They don’t get sick, humans can’t kill them, they--”

 

“Then how did you get those wounds?” I asked, unable to stop myself. He glared at me, wide eyes unblinking and tinged with pink from irritation.

 

“Humans can hurt monsters, not kill them. Don’t interrupt me again.” He took another drink from the bottle. “This is the grossest shit… Whatever. Anyway, Monsters are ruled by something called the Hivemind. It’s a form of government, I guess? But, it’s not people… Exactly. Kind of. Um.” He grunted, pushing his hair away from his face. “It’s people possessed by Zalgo. Zalgo is, uh, a force of nature. It’s like a disease. It infects people and makes them listen.”

 

“They do his bidding, and become a part of the Hivemind. The Hivemind thinks as one, and they do what Zalgo wants them to. Their will is written in the Accords, which I guess would be the laws. We all are bound by the Accords, and if we break them, then we are culled.” He wiped his mouth with his sleeve, glancing down at it. 

 

“Gross. Anyway... Monsters live among humans, and so does the Hivemind, but… No one knows where, exactly. Monsters can claim Territory, and one Monster can’t breach another Monster’s territory according to the Accords. There’s also temporary Territory, which means that the Mark a Monster leaves behind becomes null and void after a certain amount of time.” Jeff began pulling off his hoodie, revealing the black, sweat stained t-shirt he wore underneath. He tossed the hoodie carelessly aside and leaned back against the couch, stretching his legs out.

 

“Monsters don’t like to be out in the open, ‘cause if they are, that means another monster can come along and kill them. It’s kind of a dog-eat-dog world. The more monsters you’ve killed, the higher your status, plus however long you’ve been living. Survival of the fittest.” He began to crack his joints, and I cringed as I watched him do so.

 

“That brings us to this… shitshow.” He growled, looking accusingly back at me. “According to the Accords, a monster can take territory in the residence of a human if all humans who take residence there are dead, as well as all witnesses. But I placed my mark here  _ before  _ I killed you. Found a loophole, but…” He rubbed his temples. “Ugh, its weird. I have to kill you to fulfill the Accords, but I placed my mark before I could kill you, so I took up residence and began filling the Accord. I have to kill you to fulfill the Accord, but I can’t kill you because the Accord has begun to be filled and doing so would begin filling another Accord and I can’t do that without finishing the other one created by placing my mark.”

 

I gaped at him, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Jeff looked back at me, and rolled his eyes. He stood up, limping towards the hall. I noticed that his limp wasn’t quite so bad, and wondered if they had advanced healing times-- kind of like Deadpool.

 

“Where are you going?”

 

“To take a shower.” He muttered. “Just because I’m a serial killer doesn’t mean I live in filth. Look, you don’t have to understand this whole thing, as long as you stay quiet about it.” He looked back at me over his shoulder. “All I have to do is contact someone and get them to lift the Mark, then I can leave and you can go about living your normal life.” He started down the hall towards the bathroom, leaving me to my own thoughts.

 

I glanced over at his dirty hoodie and stooped down, picking it up. I figured I may as well do laundry if he was going to be living here from now on. I didn’t remember that I couldn’t leave until I tried the door-- Only to realize that it was unlocked again. I blinked in confusion, but saw that the marks still glowed.

 

_ “Fuck this.” I sighed. This was a really… strange situation I’d gotten myself into, but hey-- At least things weren’t boring. _


	3. Chapter 3

**| CAPABLE OF DOING TERRIBLE THINGS |**

 

_ “Fuck this.” I sighed. This was a really… strange situation I’d gotten myself into, but hey-- At least things weren’t boring. _

 

The morning after Jeff became my… unconventional roommate began like any other morning, except I woke up on the couch instead of in my bed. I sat up, groaning and moving the rub at my sore neck. I looked around, seeing that the living room was almost exactly like it normally was, save for the half-empty bottle of apple Schnapps sitting on my coffee table. I swung my legs over the side of the couch, seeing that I hadn’t even changed out of my uniform.

 

“Shit,” I gasped as I realized how late it must have been, and pawed around for my phone. Only then did I remember that it had been smashed by that… psychopath the night before. I cursed and stood up, wobbling a bit. Where even was he? The idea that Jeff was somewhere in my house, but I didn’t know where, made me extremely nervous.

 

I made my way down the hall to try the apartment building-issued telephone on my bedside table. It was only capable of calling the front desk, the police, the fire station, etc; But it was better than nothing. I swung open the door to my bedroom and let out a shout as I saw Jeff there, laying half-naked on my bed, fast asleep.

 

Well, he wasn’t asleep for long, as my shout jarred him awake. He went for the knife laying under my pillow (planted there by him, I could only imagine), and brandished it blindly at me. We stared at each other in a blind panic, breathing hard and trying to comprehend our situations before he suddenly cursed and tossed the knife back down onto the floor.

 

“What the hell is your problem, human?” He barked, before turning over and pulling the blankets back over him. I scoffed in disgust, and made for the telephone-- and lo and behold, the cord was cut.

 

“ _ My  _ problem? I’ve been wondering the same thing of you! You barge into my house, mark it like its yours, try to kill me, and then just expect me to go with it when you can’t! You destroy all of my connections to the outside world, and you don’t even bother to ask my fucking name!” I threw the dead phone back on the receiver. “Get out of my bed.”

 

My response was a low, muffled growl from within the blankets that sounded like “Fuck off”. So he wanted to play this game, did he? I grabbed the blankets and ripped them off in one fluid motion, and he let out a frustrated snarl, turning over to glare at me. I pointed at the door.

 

“Couch. Now.”

 

“You think you can boss me around?” He laughed without humor, and attempted going for the knife. Then, the look of realization crossed his face and he shouted in anger before shoving me aside and leaving my bedroom. I dropped the blankets back on the mattress, pleased with myself, and stooped down to pick up the knife.

 

In the daylight streaming through my window, I could only somewhat make out the strange insignia branded onto the side of the blade. It looked like an electron, somewhat-- with an eye in the middle and four crossing orbitals around it. I wrinkled up my nose, feeling uncomfortable just looking at it, and put the knife in a drawer on my desk. 

 

I went to the bathroom to take a shower and change into some clothes that weren’t my sweaty uniform. Of course, the bathroom was a mess after his shower the night before. Damp towels on the floor, dirty clothes kicked into a corner. Where did he even get new clothes? I pictured him pulling them out of the void like he did with the knives last night.

 

After my shower, I blow dried my hair and dressed in some simple, but stylish clothes. I was… normal looking, for the most part. Heavier and taller than most, dirty blonde hair and gray-blue eyes. I didn’t bother with makeup and shook my hair out, before grabbing all (yes, all) of the dirty towels and clothes from the floor and tossing them in the hamper.

 

I made my way back out into the living room, seeing that Jeff was there, shimmying himself into a pair of black jeans. Where he got them, I didn’t bother to ask. I grabbed the Schnapps from the coffee table and made my way into the kitchen to dump it out into the sink.

 

“So,” I began, “what is going to happen today.”

 

“I have to talk to some… contacts.” Jeff replied. “I’ll be gone most of the day, so don’t wait up.”

 

“Do I get to know where you’re going?” I looked at him over my shoulder. He glared at me from the den.

 

“Don’t make this personal, woman. I don’t like you, and you don’t like me. You should be dead right now, but you’re not, so we’re just going to have to make this work.” He stomped on the ground and the void opened up once more. He reached inside and pulled out a backpack, slate gray and supposedly full. He slung it over his shoulder and stomped it closed. “You’re not my friend.”

 

“Fine.” I shrugged, holding my hands up in surrender. “I’m fine with that.”

 

“Leave the door unlocked.” Jeff made his way for the door, but stopped momentarily and opened up the void again. He reached inside and pulled out a cellphone, nearly identical to my old one. He tossed it to me, and I fumbled to catch it. “Don’t call the cops or anything, and don’t bother thanking me, I don’t care.” He then left, slamming the door shut behind him.

 

“What a broody bastard.” I muttered to myself, before turning the phone on. It was… a carbon copy of my old phone, right down to the crack in the upper right corner. I weighed it in my hand, pursing my lips before turning to the fridge to put together some sort of breakfast.

 

**| MEANWHILE |**

 

Jeff pulled up some of his old contacts on his Zalgo-administered communications device as he made his way down to the parking lot. He mulled over his choices, wondering if it was really better to drag… him into this. He was, after all, one of the Ancient ones. And they didn’t particularly enjoy each other's company.

 

He sighed, ultimately deciding that he didn’t have another choice, and dialled the number. Nothing but television static answered to him, but that only meant that his message was going through. He took a weary breath before he began to speak.

 

“Hey, Slender. I know the last time we saw each other, you were kicking me out of your Territory, but I’ve got a situation here, and I’d really appreciate it if we could--”

 

“Jeffrey Woods. How can we be of service?”

 

Jeff let out a shout of surprise and nearly dropped his ZCD. He fumbled with it, whirling around to face the familiar voice behind him. Timothy Wright, otherwise known as the proxy Masky, stood there, holding his own ZCD to his ear. He lowered it, scoffing out what Jeff could only assume was a laugh before hitting the DECLINE button.

 

“God, fuck, Masky.” Jeff sighed, pinching his nose. “We can’t talk here. Take me to your Territory.”

 

“So demanding, and here I came to aid you.” Masky’s sarcastic lilt was not muffled by his mask, something the Slenderman probably did for him. “Fine, fine. You know the drill. Close your eyes.” He reached out to grab onto Jeff’s shoulder, and the moment they touched, the overwhelming sound of static filled Jeff’s head. His vision went white behind his eyelids, and his heart leapt in his chest with the sensation of falling.

 

When they came to, his knees almost gave out underneath him. He let out a ragged breath, cursing as Masky pulled away.

 

“God, I hate doing that.”

 

“Most do.” Masky sat down in one of the simple white recliners of his living room, crossing his legs at the knee and watching Jeff. His Territory was a simple house in a suburban area somewhere in the catskills, but to the human eye, it was an abandoned shack overgrown with trees out in the woods.

 

Masky removed his mask, and Jeff cringed a bit at the sight. His eyes were sunken in, sideburns untrimmed and the beginnings of stubble on his face. Tim lit up a cigarette, eyes flickering up to meet Jeff’s before he nodded towards the couch.

 

“What do you need, Jeff?”

 

Jeff sat down, combing a hand through his hair and rubbing his hand under his nose.

 

“Well…” He muttered. “There’s a lot to explain, and I’d prefer it if it stayed between you, me, and Slender.”

 

“You know I support fully doctor-patient confidentiality.” Muttered Tim before allowing smoke to wisp from his lips. “Get to the point.”

 

“I marked the residence of a human before I killed her.” Jeff said, his lips pursed. Tim stared at him hard for a few moments before scoffing out a laugh. Jeff’s eyebrows knit together as he watched him. “That funny to you?”

 

“Yes, yes it is.” Tim shifted in his seat. “You making an idiot of yourself is always hilarious.”

 

“Tim.” Jeff leaned forward, his elbows bracing on his knees. “Come on, I need your help.”

 

“Jeff, you know what this means.” Tim glared at his cohort, deep brown eyes near black with his lack of sleep. “Slenderman cannot-- Ngh!” His hand shot to his head as a twinge of pain pounded between his temples. He weakly reached for his mask, breathing hard as he did so. He slipped it over his head with one hand, and put out his cigarette with the other. As soon as it was on, he fell back against his chair and let out a sigh of relief. “Slenderman cannot remove the mark himself. He has to have permissions from the Hivemind.”

 

“No he doesn’t, and you know that.” Jeff was unaffected by his pain, used to the phenomenon as he shifted in his chair. “Tim, I--”

 

“Masky.” He growled, head shooting up.

 

“Masky.” Jeff breathed, rolling his eyes. “I need your help. Please. I will owe you.”

 

Masky observed Jeff for a long time, expression indiscernible behind his mask. He let out a soft sigh before standing up and pacing around for a moment. His fists clenched and unclenched as he muttered to himself, considering his options. Finally, he stopped and turned to face Jeff.

 

“You’ll owe us.”

 

“Yes.”

 

A grin crossed Tim’s face behind his mask, and he held out his hand to shake.

 

_ “Alright, Jeffrey. I’ll speak with the Slenderman. You’ve got yourself a deal.” _


	4. Chapter 4

**| BURIED ALIVE |**  
  
 _“Alright, Jeff. You have yourself a deal.”_  
  
“This girl you’ve been shacking with,” Tim took a drag from his cigarette as he led Jeff out through the foggy woods of Slender’s Territory (one of many), “her name is Alexandria MacArthur. She’s a harmless specimen, really. Gullible, malleable, susceptible. You chose a roommate pretty well.”  
  
“I didn’t choose anything.” Jeff muttered, feeling uncomfortable nostalgia as he looked around the woods. “Look, do me a favor, don’t talk to me.”  
  
“Whatever you say. Jackass.” Tim muttered this last part under his breath before he dropped the cigarette on the ground. A large, white X in an O appeared on the grass as he did, made out of burnt grass and ash. Slowly, the white ash faded into black sludge and began to congile together, growing larger and thicker. Jeff and Tim watched as it began to rise, twisting and turning and rippling to life.  
  
Soon, the form of Slenderman stood there where the mark once was, thick tentacles writhing in the crisp winter air as he watched them watching him. Jeff could never look at his facelessness too long-- it made static cry in his head. He always felt a little less than sane when he heard that static.  
  
Tim’s eyes rolled into the back of his head, and his knees gave out from underneath him. He let out a cry and pawed around for his mask, letting out moans of pain. He slipped the mask over his face once more, shuddering in the grass and sobbing. His sounds came to an end all at once as his body stiffened, and then he was standing up, eyes empty and white. A deep rumble sounded from within his chest, and when his mouth opened, a distorted version of his own voice left him.  
  
“Jeffrey Woods. My, my… It has been a long time, hasn’t it?”  
  
Jeff felt himself shudder after watching the display. Only proxies of Slender could undergo the great Harboring… it was disturbing to watch. It made him glad he’d never allowed himself to become one of them. Even so, he took a knee before Slenderman, addressing him instead of Tim.  
  
“Slender, it, um…” He glanced over at Hoody, who had slipped out of the woods and was watching him from the treeline, head tilted somewhat. “It’s been a while, yeah. I came here to ask for your, uh, help.”  
  
“I’ve heard. You only ever come if you need help. But come you did, so I shall listen.”  
  
Tim’s movements were jerky and unnatural, like a puppet moving on strings as he spoke. Jeff swallowed hard, biting his lip as he forced himself to tear his eyes away. He stood up straight, combing his hair away from his face.  
  
“I, uh… Did exactly what you told me not to.”  
  
 **| MEANWHILE |**  
  
I was washing the dishes when I heard a knock at the door. I cursed under my breath, grabbing a towel and wiping off my hands as I went to answer it. I opened the door, expecting Alme or the manager or something, come to ask why the line on my telephone was cut, but it was not that at all.   
  
A young man stood there, wearing a strange mask to cover his nose and mouth, and orange goggles. He had a hood pulled over his dark hair, and though he looked mostly normal, something about him screamed out “Monster” to me. I swallowed hard, wobbling back on my leg and glancing to the side.  
  
“Can I help you?”  
  
“No.” He glanced at the door, lifting a gloved hand to run his fingers over the mark in the wood there. The one Jeff had left behind. He looked back at me, and I barely had time to register the pain, much less what happened, when he suddenly struck me over the head with what looked like a nightstick. I hit the ground, my vision blurry and the taste of blood in my mouth. He stepped inside of my apartment, looming over me with a tilt to his head.  
  
I was too weak to do anything as he straddled my torso, holding my arms down beneath his knees. He grabbed my hair, pushing my head back into the floor and pulled a syringe from somewhere within his coat. I began to thrash as best I could in a panic, grunting and fighting against his grip. He only applied more weight, pushing me down into submission before he sunk the needle in. I let out a little gasp at the pain, but as soon as the needle left, my vision started boxing around the edges.  
  
“This is be-be-between me and Jeff.” His voice was a distant haze as I slipped further and further away, and before his footsteps had even trailed off further into my apartment, I was passed out.  
  
 **| FOUR HOURS LATER |**  
  
Jeff felt like he needed a few drinks by the time he got back to Alex’s apartment. Alex. That was such a strange name-- he pictured the human as more of a Lacy or a Sophie or some shit, not an Alex. He grunted, rubbing his face as he approached Apartment 267.  
  
Slenderman had agreed to aiding him with the Mark, but it might take a few business weeks or so. Jeff thought that was entirely bullshit, but he wasn’t really in a place to argue. He approached the door, and a pang of horror went through him when he realized that it was cracked open. Fuck, did someone breach his Territory? He knew he shouldn’t have left without Alex-- she couldn’t protect his stuff, she was a human!  
  
He swung the door open, brandishing one of his knives, expecting a fight. Instead, all he got was an apartment full of pages upon pages of Slender marks, and Alex passed out on the ground. She had a sticky note stuck on her forehead, with the Slender mark on it as well. He let out a tiny growl, realizing that the only person who could have done this was--  
  
“Toby.” He ripped off the sticky note and tossed it aside, stooping down to slap Alex’s face a few times. “Alex. Get up. We have to go.”  
  
“Mmmrrgh.” Alex shifted a bit, coming to with a gurgling noise. He scoffed, before standing up and making towards the hallway. “Wha-- Jeff? What’s going… on?”  
  
“Get your shit, we have to go.” He said from her bedroom, gathering up all of the belongings he had stashed away in the various nooks and crannies. He couldn’t find one of his knives, but he doubted that it mattered-- his enemies knew where he was already, anyhow.   
  
“Where are we… going?” Alex was just getting around when he came downstairs.  
  
“To a safe place. Look, Alex, we are in danger. Get some shit together, we have to go.” Jeff pulled out his ZCD, scanning over the contacts and looking for a certain name. His words seemed to snap her into action, and she finally began getting a duffel bag together. While she fussed about, he finally found the name he was looking for.  
  
Laughing Jack.  
  
 **| MEANWHILE |**  
  
Ticci Toby dropped to his knees on the edge of Slenderman’s territory, the fog just wisping about his legs as he pawed through the bag he’d snatched from that human’s apartment. He pulled out a few trivial things, just some stuff he’d grabbed in a moment’s notice, until he finally found what he was looking for. One of Jeff’s knives, something he’d carelessly left behind in a drawer in her bedroom.   
  
Toby observed the insignia, a tiny grin spreading on his face as he pulled his mask away. Everything was coming together nicely. Jeff had always been Slenderman’s favorite, even after he betrayed them all and left to be a nomadic Monster. Toby just didn’t understand. He had everything! He had Slender’s favor, the best skill a proxy could possess, all of the credentials… But he left, and for what? Cheap thrills?  
  
Well, Toby was going to take him out, and he was going to get the recognition he deserved. He rightfully owned. He stabbed the knife into the ground and glared into the fog. All he had to do was notify the Hivemind of the break in the Accords, and they would deal with Jeff for him.   
  
They never missed a target, after all.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The hiatus has ended. Chapters will resume as usual.

**`| NOT A HUMAN BEING |`**  
  
 _“After all, they never miss a target.”_  
  
“God, I hate this place.” Jeff muttered as he and I approached some old, decrepit building. I wrinkled my nose at the sight of it, adjusting my duffel bag on my shoulder and glancing over at him. We had been hiking for about three miles, and although I was ready to sit down and have a drink or something, this wasn’t really the place to do it. A fading sign read “Still Waters Sanatorium”.  
  
“What is it?” I approached the sign, squinting down at it. “Why are we at an abandoned sanatorium?”  
  
“It’s not abandoned.” Jeff approached me from behind, pointing at a mark I hadn’t noticed. It was a simple name-- LJ carved into the sign haphazardly. I wrinkled my nose a bit, glancing over at him.   
  
“Laughing Jack, right? That’s… a weird name.” I stood up straight, watching as he began toward the sanatorium. “Wait, Jeff-- We’re not, we’re not going in there, are we?”  
  
“Um, yeah?” Jeff looked back at me, raising an eyebrow. He had pulled his hair back into a sloppy ponytail, and I had to admit, it looked a little funny. I sighed, shaking my head. “What, you pussying out on me, pussy?”  
  
“No!” I shouldered my bag and stormed off after him. “Who is this guy, anyway?”  
  
“He’s an old friend of mine. He rebelled from the Accords, lives on his own.” Jeff turned and walked into the sanatorium, not bothering the hold the doors open. They slammed shut before me, and I grumbled as I pulled them open again and rushed after him.  
  
“What do you mean, rebelled?” The inside was just as shitty looking as the outside. The walls must have been yellow once upon a time, but they were now chipping and fading away, crawling with vermin and dust. The tiles on the floor were coming up, rotting and grimy.  An abandoned stretcher sat not too far away, what looked like a coat laying on top.  
  
“I’ll let him explain it. God fuck, it’s cold.” Jeff rubbed at the goosebumps rising on his neck and looked around. “Laughing Jack!! Get out here!”  
  
“Did he know you were coming?” I had been observing the coat on the stretcher, but now I turned to look back at him. “You talked to him on the phone right?”  
  
“Yeah, of course I did-- Look, let me handle it. God damn.” Jeff looked around, before cupping his hands around his mouth and shouting: “LJ!”  
  
“I’m right here, you don’t have to shout.” A capricious, albeit tired sounding voice said from behind me. I screamed, jumping and whirling around. Jeff let out a howl of laughter at my plight, though I was too busy staring at the Monster behind me to pay much attention.  
  
Laughing Jack was tall. And by tall, I mean fucking huge. He was near seven foot four inches, if I’m guessing, with long and lanky limbs. His hands were tipped with razor sharp claws instead of fingers, with pointy teeth to match. He was… monochromatic, if anything. His clothes, skin, hair and eyes were all in shades of black and white. His nose was a long cone, black and white and striped. He would have been funny looking if it weren’t for the handful of animal viscera he clutched as he stared me down.  
  
I watched in horror as he lifted it to his face and dropped it into his mouth, chewing like it was bubblegum and not gore. He swallowed it in one fluid motion, before grinning at me. There was blood on his teeth. I let out another wail of horror, stumbling away until my back hit the wall. Jeff and Jack both watched me, thoroughly amused at my terror.  
  
“You-- I--You c-- WAAAUGH!” I wanted to throw up. My entire body was shaking.   
  
“Cute pet human, Jeffrey.” Laughing Jack said as he turned to Jeff. “She’s a bit… scream-y, though.”  
  
“She’s not usually that loud.” Jeff said, turning to glare at me. “Would you can it? I’m trying to have a conversation with my friend here.”  
  
“He just-- What-- What was that?!” I demanded.  
  
“Just venison.” Jack shrugged, smile playing on his lips. “I eat it raw to save time. Oh! How rude of me!” He swept down into a dramatic bow, looking up only to flash his razor sharp teeth at me in a smile that could easily be mistaken for a snarl. “Monsieur Laughing Jack, at your service! Professional clown, kidnapper, murderer, and friend to all. I do parties. And you are?”  
  
“Kidnap-- Murderer?” I was dizzy. It was easy to forget that Jeff was a serial killer (supposedly) when he was so… normal. Or at least, he acted that way.  
  
“We all are, princess.” Jeff bit out. “It’s what Monsters do. I explained this once already. That’s Alex, the one I told you about over the phone?”  
  
“Ah yes.” Laughing Jack stood up straight once again, straightening out his suspenders. “Pleasure to have you. You’ll be staying here… With me.”  
  
“I-- What?!” I looked hopelessly at Jeff, who seemed annoyed with my reaction. “I never agreed to this!”  
  
“Because I didn’t ask for your permission.” Jeff approached, grabbing my wrist and pulling me into a standing position. I didn’t realize I had been sliding down the wall until now. “Pull yourself together!”  
  
“Don’t touch me!” I attempted to push him away. This was too much. I wanted to go home, wanted to go home, wanted to go home! “Get away from me!”  
  
“Aw, Jeffrey, she’s scared… Look, you’re scaring her.” Laughing Jack approached, and I watched as his form began to change. Where the monochrome was, bright arrays of color flourished on his skin, hair, and clothes. His long nose was now striped with the rainbow, and his skin a pale peach. The blood still stained his hands, but at least he looked less… unnatural.  
  
“Here, that better?” He approached, reaching out with his clean hand to ruffle my hair. I swatted his hand away, and he giggled at my reaction. “Come with me, kid. I’ll show you to your room. I cleaned it up for you-- no rats or roaches or clowns.” He tossed a look to Jeff. “Why don’t you start a fire in the pit, hm? Its awful cold in here for you… feel-y types.”  
  
“Yeah, whatever.” Jeff pulled his hoodie over his head, tossing it aside and approaching the firewood. I watched him for a moment, seeing the long, thin scars crisscrossing along his arms. I wondered if he traced his fingers over them in quiet moments. I wondered what it would be like to do so.  
  
Wait, what?  
  
I wrinkled up my nose and shook my head. I’d been single for far too long. It was starting to get to me.  
  
I followed Laughing Jack down the winding halls to my new bedroom. It was clean, as he’d promised, with a neatly made up bed and a bare desk. The power worked by some strange miracle-- must have been a monster thing.  
  
“Do you pay power bills or something?” I muttered as I watched him fuss about. He glanced up at me, white irises so strange and alien.  
  
“Oh, haha, no, dear. Everything you see is an illusion.” He stood up, stretching and popping the joints in his back. “This place is actually quite nice.” Upon hearing this, I walked past him to the window and pushed aside the yellowed lace curtains to look out of it. It was boarded up from the outside, long planks of rotting wood keeping my vision obscured. I frowned and turned to look at him.  
  
"Why the seclusion?" I asked, eyebrows knitted together. He hummed, sitting down on the bed once more.  
  
"Because, Alex... I am a wanted man. Just as you and Jeff are wanted. The Hivemind wants all of us skinned and salted, and left to dry under the sun on their back-porch." His voice had dropped to a low gravel, and he stared out into middle space as he spoke. I watched him for a long time, lips pursed before I sat down beside him, keeping a healthy distance.  
  
"We're safe here?" I asked him the question that had been festering away in my mind since that day Jeff and I left my apartment and I saw actual fear in his eyes. I didn't know him all that well, but I trusted him to have a handle on the situation. I trusted him to know what to do.   
  
"Yes." Jack suddenly snapped out of his reverie, turning to look at me with a toothy smile affixed to his face. "I suppose I should leave you to rest, hm? Sweet dreams, my dear. By the time morning breaks, this place will feel like home to you!" He stood up, making his way towards the door, and I decided it would be best to unpack what I had brought.  
  
The sun was quickly dipping in the orange sky, and the smell of smoke from a wood-fire was beginning to drift up the stairs. I finished unpacking what I had brought, which consisted of my first-aid kit, my phone and charger, a few different outfits (with underwear), a toiletry bag and of course, tampons.   
  
"You never see girls grab tampons in action movies." I muttered to myself as I stashed them away in a drawer. I wondered briefly if Jack had a washing machine somewhere in this joint, but ultimately decided that it would be best to ask those questions in the morning.  
  
I changed into some light, cotton pajamas and got into my new bed. The blanket was wool; Warm, although a bit itchy, it was nothing I could complain about. The grime was already beginning to disappear from the walls as I drifted off to sleep, the illusion wearing thin.


	6. Hiatus Ending (1/16/17)

The hiatus has officially come to an end. Chapters will resume upload as of 1/16/17.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I guess I forgot to upload this chapter. There will be more to come. Sorry about all the long pauses between chapters.

**| KEEP YOUR FRIENDS CLOSE |**  
  
“Hello, Alex.”  
  
I sat up with a start, gasping at the sound of the unfamiliar voice. I was in my room at the sanatorium, but the room was filled with murky green water. Only my bed and the tops of the dresser could be seen for the stuff, and I found myself scrambling to the wall to avoid it. I looked around for the source of the voice, but I was completely alone in the room.  
  
“Jeff?” I called out into the darkness. “Jack? Anyone?! Someone?!” There was no response, but the water began to shift. Rings appeared on the surface, growing larger and larger. Something was moving closer and closer to the bed. I tried to move farther away, but my back was against the wall. The ripples grew larger and larger at the very edge of my bed, before suddenly a hand, drenched in swamp water and near bloodless shot out of the water and grabbed my ankle. I screamed as it dragged me under the water with inhuman strength, and though I struggled to grab the sheets, it pulled me under with zero difficulty.  
  
My eyes were squeezed shut and my breath held as I fought against my captor. The floor was gone, and the water seemed to go on forever into a murky, black abyss. It continued to drag me farther and farther under, and though I fought to keep my breath held, water forced its way into my nose and ears and finally my throat. I was drowning, life draining out of my lungs with every second that passed.  
  
White hands clawed at my feet, many in number now, some tangled in reeds, others covered in moss. My eyes rolled into the back of my head before my blurry vision boxed and I fell under.   
  
Death was the bottom of the swamp. There was no sound here, no light. Even the hands were gone, and I drifted without weight to the muddy bottom. And then, that voice came to me again. The one that had woken me in the first place.  
  
“Don’t be frightened, Alex.”  
  
A figure was approaching. He was a man, with garments the color of the swamp water we had drowned in, and eyes like red lights cutting through the murk. His hair was near white, it was so blonde, and drifted around his face in the water. His image seemed to jump and glitch, like an image on a broken camera. He looked like he was my age, maybe younger; But his eyes… They were the eyes of someone who had seen lifetimes.  
  
“You’ve seen the end. I’ve shown you the truth.”  
  
He stood over me now, his face almost ethreal. He was timeless, and if I didn’t know better, I might have thought he was an angel. He knelt down, and his fingers scooped up mud from the bottom of the swamp. He ran his fingers down my face, leaving streaks of mud along my skin.  
  
“My name is BEN. I DROWNED. Remember that, Alex. Remember what I told you.”  
  
Suddenly, his appearance began to change. Black sludge began to leak from his eyes, his nose, his mouth. Water began to fill my lungs again, and I found myself beginning to panic again. The surface was coming closer and closer, and I couldn’t tell if the bottom of the swamp was rising, or the water was draining.  
  
“Life is drowning, Alex. Remember what I told you. Remember, and wake up.”  
  
I crested the surface, water splashing around me, but it still felt as though I was underwater. BEN stood waistdeep above me, holding me as though he had baptized me, and moved me back onto my bed. I stared at him as he sunk back into the swamp. He sunk deeper and deeper until only his eyes and the top of his head was visible, like a crocodile hunting for its prey. He spoke to me one last time, his voice unaltered by the water.  
  
 _“Wake up, Alex.”_  
  
I gasped, sitting up in bed and coughing. Jeff stood above me, face twisted into something between confusion and concern. There was no water in the room-- there never was. Even so, the sheets were soaked, and so was I. I coughed up mouthfuls of swamp water, eyes stinging at the corners as I did.  
  
“Holy shit, Alex.” Jeff muttered. “I heard you… gasping and thrashing around and I come in here to find this. BEN came to you? As in, BEN DROWNED?” He looked amazed-- mystified, even.  
  
“I…” I wheezed, rubbing my eyes with the heels of my hands. “He said that was his name… There was a swamp, and I was drowning, and when I got to the bottom, he was there--”  
  
“Wait, you got to the bottom?” Jeff looked at me like I had just given him a small fortune. “And you’re here to tell the tale?! What the fuck, Alex! Are you some kind of god or something?” He walked around the bed to look at my face, and his eyes widened. “Holy fuck. He marked you.”  
  
“Marked me?” I looked up at him, eyebrows furrowed. “What do you mean--”  
  
“Look!” Jeff yanked me up by the elbow and pulled me over to the vanity, forcing me to look in the mirror. There were three lines on my face, running vertically from my forehead down to my chin, made out of dried blood and mud. “This could save our asses. The Hivemind can’t touch us, this is a virus matter now!”  
  
“What do you mean?” I looked back at him, eyebrows furrowed. “Jeff, who is this guy and why did he wipe blood on my face? Why is that so important?”  
  
“BEN DROWNED.” Jeff was pacing around, his face pulled into a hysteric grin. “Only the most influential and powerful virus ever to grace cyberspace. If he’s laid his claim of protection on you, then that means the Hivemind loses the right to put us on trial. If they do, it becomes a matter of war between them and the viruses.”  
  
“What the hell is a virus?” I was dizzy. “He drowned me, Jeff! How is that at all protection?” I groaned as I peeled my wet clothes away from my skin. “Get out, I need to change. I probably smell like a swamp.”  
  
“You do, to be honest.” Jeff muttered, and rolled his eyes. “Look, I’ll explain all of this later. All you need to know is that it’s a good thing. Lighten up a little.”  
  
“I drowned, Jeff!” I snapped, attempting to give him a cross look, and he simply scoffed at me before leaving my room. I closed the door behind him and busied myself with peeling off my wet clothes.   
  
In some form of ironic torture, it was raining outside. The rain pattered against my boarded up window as I brushed out my damp, tangled hair. There was no mud on me, thankfully, but the smell of blood clung to my dirty pajamas.  
  
Laughing Jack was right when he said that by the morning, this place would feel more like home. The grime was gone from the walls, and the furniture (what furniture there was) was new-looking, albeit a bit dusty. I took the sheets off of the bed as well as my wet clothes and tossed them into a hamper I found in the corner before making my way out of the room.  
  
The sanatorium was as you’d expect: Clean, sterile, yellow walls, and tiled floor. There was no elevator, as the place was pretty old, and the stairs creaked when I walked down them. It didn’t take long to find the guys, however, as all I had to do was follow the noise.  
  
I passed by a mirror on my way into what I could only assume was the kitchen (it had once been an employee lounge), and out of my peripheral, I could have sworn I saw someone else’s reflection in the glass. Someone with eyes like red lights, soaked to the bone with swamp water. I turned to look, but only saw my reflection staring back at me.  
  
“Life is drowning, Alex.” I remembered his words, though for the life of me, I couldn’t recall the details of his voice. Life is drowning, and death is the bottom of a swamp. The swamp. His swamp.


End file.
